CHANDRA RICE

August 3, 1980 - Alabama
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“Hate”

It's not the hate that bothers me.
Hate existed before me and will only die by God's hand.
It's the lack of explanation, the unanswered why.
Adam was created but because Eve was also created
we can only have one pairing in all of the world.
Trivial and unimaginative.
Not the God I know.
Not the God who created the aardvark
and creation itself and inspiration and whose existence imagined the Pietà.
The weird and the weak and the strong and the unstable.
Thrusts and shimmies and delectable tastes.
I wait for more than a verse or twenty written by men
who would have never waited for me.
I ebb in a desire so forceful I can only assume its power base is
hard and crackling and unforgiving.
I crave the peace of God's presence, truth and measure, silence,
unending love and a balanced justice.
A promise.
A benediction.
An answered prayer.
We share a daydream, yet
I've never met anyone like anyone else.
4 a.m. knows all my secrets.
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